My mom and her then-boyfriend came home with her one May afternoon. They said they found her over by the school, and decided to bring her home as a birthday present for my younger sister. She was still a young kitten, her gray and white fur was soft, and she was friendly. My sister named her right away: “Lindsay”. This was my sister’s 9th birthday. I was 11.
Lindsay was there through my awkward pre-teen years. She was there while we (my sister and I ) were both preadolescently chubby and acne-filled. She witnessed our chickenpox. She adjusted to a home that already had two dogs in it.
Then she was there to greet me when I came home from after-school basketball, track, soccer, and volleyball practices, curiously sniffing my bags and shoes. She saw good days, bad days, sad days, stressful days; fad makeup and hairstyles. She saw everything that had to do with two girls being brought into their teenage years with essentially a single dad. The mom that initially brought her into our home was seldom around.
She was a companion; she came meowing and headbutting whenever she heard tears or sobs. She purred happily when brushed or petted.
In the summer of 2002, she had her only litter. They were born on July 3. There were four altogether: Cupcake,
Liberty , and
Shamu. She adopted Smoky, the rescue
kitten brought to us by the neighbors.
Smoky was the first to be adopted, after the ad we placed in the Super
Shopper announcing “Free Kittens to Good Home” was seen. Shamu and Cupcake also
found homes, but we decided to keep Bell
and Liberty . Bell
was around for about 1 year, then went missing.
around about 4 years, then went the same way.
We were never sure where they ended up, but searched frantically for
both of them. Bell
All of them were always inside/outside cats, so a couple times, Lindsay didn’t come home for about 2 days, and we freaked out, thinking she was gone forever. I stressed, cried, and prayed that she would come home. She always did. She had her favorite playing spot across the street in the neighbor’s hedge.
I took my anger out on Lindsay once. I think it was high school, and I was crying and she wouldn’t leave me alone, so I threw her onto my bed.
When I left for college, it was hard to leave her, and the two dogs, who were also both around at the time. But, every time I came home to visit, Lindsay was there to cuddle.
Lindsay stayed at my mom’s house the whole 4 years that my sister went away to college as well. My mom never took very good care of her (this was after Dad died). She said her fur flew everywhere, so she kept her mostly outdoors and in the garage. Her fur got matted. Still, she never ran away. She was always loyal. My sister finally got smart and moved her to
to live with her
last year. She shaved her down and made
her feel safe and loved again. Tucson
Lindsay is still alive as of today,
14, 2013. However, she has
had a few vet visits lately, due mostly to my prodding my sister to get her in
for a wellness check. I have a cat of my
own now, and encourage my sister to be a responsible pet parent since this is
the first time she has had Lindsay on her own.
The vet was concerned about Lindsay’s overall health. She had mites in her ears; some of her teeth
were questionable and look like they’re on their way out. She also found an abnormal amount of fluid in
her stomach, and told my sister further tests would be needed.
Now the vet is worried that Lindsay has cancer. Lindsay will have an ultrasound tomorrow to determine what’s next.
My sister just had her 23rd birthday. That means she’s had Lindsay for 14 years. I wish we had kept her healthier, like more routine vet visits. She never went to the vet for wellness checks ever, and hasn’t even had vaccination boosters for like 10 years. But we were kids. Our parents were supposed to take care of us and our pets.
They didn’t. So now, we do the best we can to continue to care for ourselves and our animals, making up the ground that was lost.
Lindsay wasn’t our first cat, but in a way she was. (We had Mota and Zeeper before them; I was 9 ish and Sister was 7 ish; Mota had a litter that all died at birth/shortly after/went missing; Zeeper disappeared. It was a family legend that certain neighbors to the back stole all of our cats over the years. We’ll never know)
She’s been such a good cat. I hope she feels as though she’s had a good life.